Castaway Wife, Part 9

[photo: VictoriaAndrea]

This is the ninth and final chapter of Castaway Wife! It's here at last! Thank you all for coming on this journey with me. Your feedback has been thoughtful, positive, and uplifting.

If you haven't read them yet, please read the previous parts:

• Part 1

• Part 2

• Part 3

• Part 4

• Part 5

• Part 6

• Part 7

• Part 8

21. Finale

“Molly?” Chelsea yelped.

“Of course it’s me.” The Castaway host seemed more amused than upset. “Whose house do you think this is?”

Behind her was Camila, now wearing a robe and looking sheepish. Had they been set up? Andy started to go soft. Chelsea actually rolled off of Todd, pulling a sheet up around her. “What’s going on here?” she asked.

“That’s probably something I should be asking y’all, but I think I’ve got a pretty good idea,” Molly said. “Please, don’t stop on my account.”

Chelsea wasn’t having it. She looked past Molly, at the producer. “Did you set us up, Camila?”

“No, she didn’t,” Molly answered for her. “I wasn’t even planning on coming out here. I leave early tomorrow for a site visit for this other project, then saw who was arriving at my house on my Ring.”

“Oh, shit,” Kim said, sounding more amused than not. Andy had crawled into bed beside Chelsea, but Kim actually got out of bed and was looking around the corners of the room. “Of course the host of a reality show has security cameras around her home.”

“Just the front door, don’t worry,” she said. “Privacy is also very important to me.” She looked at Chelsea. “And honestly, I would have stayed away except that… well, you got to see mine, so only fair that I get to see yours.”

Andy was confused. Chelsea was quicker to pick up on it. “You… knew I saw you at Rescue?”

“Okay, well, maybe I gave security a short list of people who could get into that wing of the resort,” Molly said. “But I was hoping that you’d join us.”

“I…” Finally, even Chelsea was speechless. “I’d never. Not with BrooKyle there.”

The host laughed. “And not until you were certain that your husband was okay with it, it seems. My two ex-husbands would have loved to have that kind of loyalty.”

“Can someone explain to me what’s going on here?” Todd said, speaking up for the first time.

“Before I… found you,” Chelsea said, “at Rescue that last night, I saw Molly… in bed with… Brooklyn and Kyle—”

“And Isaiah,” Molly added.

“I see,” Todd said. “So that’s why you looked so spooked, and were so…”

“Yeah,” Chelsea said.

“You should have joined them!” he said enthusiastically. “I would have.”

His brash and unapologetic horniness broke the tension in the room. Chelsea laughed, touching his chest tenderly. “I’m sure you would have.”

“It’s not too late,” Molly said from the door, fingering the top button of her loose blouse.

Chelsea looked at Andy before responding, though. He was frozen, still pretty sure that this was a fever dream.

Camila, still cowering behind the diminutive host, said, “I’m sorry, you guys. I forgot about the door cam, and didn’t think—”

Kim, who’d circumnavigated the room, stopped her with a kiss. “You can make it up to me with that long tongue of yours.”

This actually got a reaction from Molly, who lifted her brows and looked at the producer. Kim noticed it, too. “You didn’t know? You really should try it… if you’re into girls, I mean.”

“Oh, I’m very into girls,” Molly said. “Just not ones who technically work for me.”

“Then I’ll take this temptation away from you,” Kim said, lacing her fingers in Camila. To Todd, Chelsea, and Andy still on the bed, she said, “Those three aren’t off-limits.”

With that, Kim led Camila away.

“I can leave you three alone,” Molly said. “Plenty of rooms in this house. Unless…”

Chelsea and Andy shared one final look. When presented with the possibility of a discrete foursome with one of the hottest women on television, there’s only one answer.

Andy nodded to her, and Chelsea turned to the host. “Well, you did say that this was the best season yet…”

***

“Oh! Oh!” Molly barked her approval in loud and unbridled cries as Todd fucked the hell out of her. The man was unstoppable.

Andy and Chelsea were just beside them, watching as Andy slowly fucked his wife’s well-used pussy. He bent low and kissed her as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him even closer. He was exhausted. He was fucked out. But he still had enough energy to roll his hips and make slow, reconnecting love to her.

Molly was even sexier naked than she was in her fashionable clothing. She had a small, tight little body, honed from a strictly regulated diet and a small army of personal trainers. She lived in a world where image was everything, and the results showed.

“Oh, yes!” Molly practically screamed, rubbing her pussy between her legs as she backed into Todd’s hips. “I’m close. Get me there. Get me there!”

Todd did as instructed. He’d been hesitant with the famous host at first, but clearly the woman loved hard sex as much as Chelsea.

That was the power of the woman. When she first came into the room, she took control immediately. Looking at the three on the bed, she told them that she wanted to just watch at first, that she’d been anticipating this moment since the live show. “My second favorite thing in the world is a good love triangle. My first?” she’d said. “When that love triangle has a threesome.”

So they’d obliged. It had started tenderly, with Chelsea between her two men, kissing them back and forth as they caressed her body. Molly Reynolds slowly disrobed, distracting Andy when he wasn’t kissing his wife. First, she wiggled out of her black leggings. Her long blouse went next, button by button. Her bra and panties were black and lacy, showcasing a body that had only ever been teased on television and social media. 

The bra went as the threesome started to shift on the bed. Chelsea got onto her side with Todd and Andy just behind her. Opening her legs, she reached down and helped guide Todd’s dick into her. Andy stole a look, wondering if he’d ever tire of watching another man slide into his wife. 

Molly wasn’t a silent observer. She treated the sex act on the bed like another immunity event in Castaway, offering a play-by-play.

“Watch them, Andy. Watch the way he touches her, his hands on her thighs, that big fucking cock in your wife’s tight cunt.”

Chelsea didn’t ignore Andy. With one man fully buried in her, she twisted so that she was facing Andy’s cock, encircled it, and swallowed it whole.

“Two dicks at once,” Molly continued. “One of my favorite feelings. You can feel the way she moans on your cock, can’t you, Andy? I bet you can actually feel her orgasm build as she sucks you. That orgasm’s because another man’s dicking your wife.”

Andy shuddered. He wasn’t sure how much he’d be able to withstand the raunchy commentary and even raunchier acts before him. Molly slowly approached, tugging at her thong. As Andy stared at her, she somehow became both more of a fantasy and more real at once. Her body was perfect, yet she was just a person, like the rest of them, flesh and blood—and soft, flawless skin.

She reached a hand between her legs, fingering her brazenly smooth mound. “Hold out longer, you three,” she said. “I know you want to come. I know the temptation to give in is so great.” She put a knee on the edge of the mattress. “But I want you to dig. Chelsea, I know you have it in you to dig, and I know that if you can wait just a little longer…” She started to crawl towards them, her tits swinging beneath her lithe body. “It’ll make your release all the sweeter.”

Molly crawled up to Chelsea, dipped low, and ran her tongue along Chelsea’s nipple. Chelsea hesitated, slowing her blowjob, as Molly turned to look at her and ask, “Is this okay?”

Andy held his breath, watching the exchange. He didn’t need to wait long. Chelsea nodded, then found her voice. “Yes. Definitely, but… I’ve never done this before.”

“I bet you’ve never had two cocks before, either.”

“True,” Chelsea admitted.

“I’ve watched you do so many things that you’d never done before,” Molly said, back in host-mode. “I’ve watched you bloom like a fucking sexy ass flower.” Well, not quite a TV-ready host-mode. “But you did it all for you.” She touched Chelsea’s face. “Don’t stop that now. Only do this if it’s what you want.”

Molly didn’t need to glance at Andy. It was unspoken. Chelsea didn’t owe her husband anything anymore. She didn’t need to have her first bisexual experience for him alone, and Andy quietly hoped that she knew that.

“I have the chance to pop my girl-girl cherry with the host of Castaway,” Chelsea said, “and you think I’m going to turn that down?”

There was Molly’s famous laugh, and there went the night. The guys made space between them as they watched the women explore, kissing, touching, fingering. Molly went down on Chelsea first, edging her to the brink of three orgasms without ever letting her come. Chelsea then returned the favor, and Andy couldn’t believe that he was watching his wife between the legs of another woman—let alone this woman.

Molly summoned him up to her, and at first Andy thought she just wanted to kiss. Then he remembered what Chelsea had overheard that night at Rescue—“Fuck my face while this slut eats me out.”

Maybe he couldn’t quite do that, but when he climbed over her face and fed her his dick, she looked at him with fire in her dark eyes. Todd got into place behind Chelsea, grasping her hips and sinking his cock deep. Together, the foursome rutted on. 

Still no one came. It was an unspoken endurance challenge—who could last the longest. Who would be the final one standing.

They separated into couples. Molly on her hands and knees, getting railed by Todd. Andy and Chelsea making slower love beside them, kissing, caressing, milking the moment. They should have been the ones able to last the longest, but they also didn’t have the stamina that Molly and Todd clearly had.

Chelsea looked up at Andy, her hair damp and haloed around her on the bed. She didn’t say anything, but her expression said it all—Can you believe this is happening?

Andy could, and he couldn’t. As soon as she got invited to participate on Castaway, he figured that some things would change. He figured that once the world saw past her shy librarian persona, to the vivacious woman that she’d kept private for most of her life, that would unlock something. He just didn’t realize this was what was behind that door. 

It was a door that neither of them were ready to close.

Chelsea was the first to come, pulling Andy into her and grabbing his ass as she rocked beneath him. It triggered his own release—and this time, he knew it would be his last of the evening. She moaned as she felt him fill her, as he kissed her neck and went slack in her arms.

“Get me there, Todd!” Molly screamed. “Give me your load!”

Todd cranked on her, thumbs digging into her cheeks, his biceps straining as he took full control of her hips. Andy knew he could never fuck a woman like that—especially not at the end of a long night of sex. He could only watch and marvel as Todd finally gave the television host what she wanted—his come.

Molly was the last to climax, doing so only when Todd sat back, spent, and she was at the center of all of their attention. The host turned onto her back, opened her legs, and fingered herself to a screaming orgasm as everyone else watched.

Then, and only then, did everyone finally fall asleep.

22. The Future

“You should be on the show,” Molly Reynolds said to Andy. They were in the kitchen of her home. It was the next morning. When Andy woke up, Todd and Chelsea were still asleep, but Molly was gone. He found her out here, making coffee.

“But we slept together,” he said. “Oh, and thanks.”

She handed him a cup of coffee before pouring one of her own. “First of all, I only sucked your cock. We didn’t actually sleep together, other than in the literal sense,” she said. “Also, I don’t see that as disqualifying.”

“But you and Jason…”

Molly shot him her coy smile. “What about us?”

“Not saying that anything happened—“

“Oh, things happened.”

Andy stumbled for only a moment before picking back up on his sentence. “But everyone said you wouldn’t do anything with him until the winner was official. Like, even at Rescue in those last days, you maintained a distance.”

“Everyone thought that because that was the narrative I wanted them to see,” she said. “But I’ll let you in on a secret, just between the two of us.”

“And Chels. I’m not hiding anymore.”

Molly considered that comment before nodding. “Sure, she’s fine. You know that reward Jason one in episode 9?”

“The evening at the island spa?” He did remember it. It was the only challenge that Jason won the entire season—a personal trip to a spa, where he got a massage, a nice meal, a shower, and a real bed to spend the night in.

“Yeah,” Molly said. “I was actually the real reward. Obviously we didn’t film that, and only a select few of the cast knew.”

“No way.”

“I can be impartial and unbiased. And I love your idea of a Castaway spouse season. It’s so… delicious.”

Andy was starting to realize something about the host. “Is the show just a vehicle for you to bring hot people together for you to play with?”

Molly’s laugh was heartfelt and genuine. “No, of course not.” She winked. “But it’s definitely a perk of the position.”

“Oh, fuck!” Chelsea’s cry carried from the bedroom.

Molly grinned at Andy. “Looks like the love birds are up.”

***

Chelsea was gone for much of their final day in LA, being zipped from studio to studio, conducting more rounds of talk shows and podcasts than she’d realized. Turned out that when cameras were on and it wasn’t reality television designed to seem gritty, hair, makeup, and wardrobe ate up a chunk of time. 

Andy spent the time at Molly Reynolds’ Hollywood Hills home. The host was long gone, off to the airport to be flown to the next exotic location—but not before pitching him one last time on trying out for some future season of Castaway.

Kim left, too, leaving him alone with Camila. He thought that it might have been awkward, hanging out with a woman he’d had sex with just last night. It wasn’t. Turned out he was pretty good with casual sex.

It was exactly the kind of day that he needed, the perfect coda on this wild day. Camila gave him space, leaving him alone in the morning, only to return with some lunch. She couldn’t put her inquisitive nature in a box, though. It’s what made her good on the show—her ability to connect and get people to open up.

“I’ve got a question,” she asked as they sat out on the patio in the bright, Los Angeles sun. “When she got home, why didn’t you reassure Chelsea more?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you basically told her to go out and play the field. You literally told her that she could be Felicity, a past player notorious for fucking other guys.”

“Felicity actually fucked those other guys?” Andy said.

Camila leaned in, like even up here, in the extreme privacy of the place, there could still ears listening, always. “Yes. We had to edit it out, of course, but she was definitely not innocent. But you’re changing the subject.”

“Right, I… I don’t know. Chelsea told me that she couldn’t tell me anything, so I didn’t ask about it.”

“Yeah, and that’s a failing on her part, for sure. But she was nervous. She worried that she’d made this big mistake, especially when you started to act all weird—”

“I was definitely insecure,” Andy said.

“Let me finish. Insecurity wasn’t the problem. That’s natural. It’s the fact that you closed off that was the problem. She read that as disapproval.” Camila sighed. “You have to understand, man, that they spend all their time on that island erecting walls and being paranoid about all kinds of shit. It’s hard to deconstruct that, and when she came home and you acted so… weird…”

“It didn’t help,” Andy finished. “Yeah, that sucks. I see that now.”

“So what are you going to do about it?” Camila’s eyes blazed.

“No more secrets. No more walls. At least between us.”

She nodded. “Good. I’ve told her to cut that shit out on her end, too.” She looked thoughtful. “This stuff isn’t straightforward. This fantasy—your fantasy—takes on all forms. Some need to be there, or to actually participate. Some are the opposite, excited by the total denial, or maybe excited by the sneaking around. Some like to be humiliated by the wife or her lover or both—”

“That’s definitely not for me,” Andy said quickly.

“So what is it for you?”

“Why do I feel like I’m being interviewed?”

Camila smiled. “It’s my job. Hard to escape it, but don’t worry, there are no cameras here. Only you and me.”

Andy felt the intimacy between them. He didn’t get into this fantasy so that he could play, too. He didn’t want to be a swinger. But he also had a really good time last night with the Puerto Rican, and wondered if there would be more of that in the future.

“I guess I’m somewhere in between all that. I don’t want to be denied, but I also don’t mind that she could be off having fun by herself. I know that she’ll be home in the end.”

“You’re not worried about losing her?” Camila asked gently. The Castaway producer had turned into a friend. “They got close on the show. That bond wasn’t editing.”

“Should I be?” he asked, but it was rhetorical. He didn’t wait for her to answer. “I know they’re close, but honestly, that’s part of the excitement. This isn’t just lust and hormones, and I don’t think Chelsea would do this under any other circumstances.”

“Be a hotwife, you mean?”

“Yeah.” Andy considered a moment longer. “She’s close to him. She likes him, and she also likes what he does to her. It’s all wrapped up in this fantasy. But I also don’t think she loves me any less.”

“She doesn’t,” Camila said, the television interviewer persona now completely gone. “So what are your plans for your last night here?”

“Don’t have any yet, personally. Chelsea’s going to stay over at Todd’s. I guess he wants to show off his place.” He could admit this to Camila, because he knew that she wouldn’t pity him, or judge him, or any of that.

“Sounds intense, but fun.”

“If all goes according to plan, I’ll get a window into their world.” He held up his phone.

“That sounds fun. Something I’ve learned about your wife, watching her over these months, is that she may not seem it, but she likes to put on a show.”

23. Texts and Photos

[Chelsea]: Just arrived at his apartment. About to knock on the door.

[Chelsea]: Why does this make me so nervous? Lol

Ten minutes later…

[Chelsea]: Just made it past the front hallway. My knees are thankful that it’s carpeted.

A photo accompanied the text, an image of Chelsea’s face filling the screen, her mouth open and filled with pearly come.

[Chelsea]: He’s going to show me around now. I told him to start with the bedroom.

Andy’s phone rang, and Chelsea’s smiling profile picture filled the screen. In the privacy of the hotel, he picked it up. “Hello?”

No response. Instead, he heard the distinct sounds of kissing, of Chelsea humming in pleasure, of the squeaking springs of a bed taking on weight. “You’re already hard again,” he heard Chelsea whisper.

“You have that effect,” Todd replied.

There was more shifting on the bed and more kissing. Andy held his breath. “No condom,” Chelsea said, her voice still hushed, like she was being secretive even though she knew that he could hear it all. “Andy said it was okay.”

“I need to buy your husband a beer.”

“How about you fuck his wife in—STEAD! OH!”

“You’re so wet,” he groaned.

“And you’re soOHHH… big! Ahh!”

The sounds of fucking were intense and unintelligible and undoubtedly the sex sounds of Chelsea. Only sometimes, she made noises that Andy had never heard from her and he’d certainly never fucked her with the same skin-slapping intensity that Todd was giving her.

“Fuck, you’re so hot, Chels,” Todd groaned. “I want to do nasty things to your body.”

“Then do it,” Chelsea said.

Spank!

“Ah!”

“You like it rough,” Todd said as the sounds of sex grew even more vigorous.

“Yes!”

“Naughty!” Spank! “You naughty, dirty librarian!”

“Ah! Yes! Spank me!” Slap! “Punish me! Mmm! Pull my hair!” Chelsea squealed as she came. Andy just stared at his phone. Was this real?

“How about here?” Todd’s voice was rough. “You ever taken a dick here?”

“No,” Chelsea gasped. “Never… there…”

“This ass…” he said. “It’s just begging to be fucked.”

“I don’t… I’m not sure…”

“I think you do know,” Todd said. “I have some lube.”

More sounds of fucking, more heavy breathing and gasping. Andy would never grow tired of hearing his wife so turned on. Then, just before the call ended, she said, “Get the lube. I want to feel it in my—”

Andy was left gasping himself, once again alone in the deafening silence of his hotel room. The communication never stopped though. It only stuttered and lagged. A half hour passed after the call before they resumed.

[Chelsea]: He did it. I did it. I had anal sex!!

[Chelsea]: And I loved it!!

[Chelsea]: I’m actually shocked at how good it felt. We have to do it together.

[Chelsea]: But maybe not for a while. I’m going to be so sore.

[Chelsea]: Shower sex time!

Another hour passed, excruciating and wonderful. This time, a photo arrived.

[Chelsea]: He has such a nice place. How about this view?

There were no vistas in the photo, no landscapes. The photo was of the two of them, a selfie taken in the mirror, with Chelsea holding her phone in front of her face as if that would afford her some modesty. She was totally naked, although Todd, standing behind her, was cupping her full tits in his hands. She had her free hand reaching behind her, gripping his fully erect dick.

Another followed. This time it was Todd holding the phone, because Chelsea was on her knees, her lips wrapped around his cock. Her eyes were raised to his and her cheeks were hollowed out as she sucked. Her hair was still damp from the shower, which could been seen in the background.

The third and final photo in the set was also taken from that same room. Chelsea was bent forward, hands bracing on the sink, mouth slack like she was mid-moan. Todd was behind her, holding the phone in one hand as he fucked her from behind. Her ass, Andy noticed, was red from her earlier spanking.

A half hour passed before Andy received anything else—a half hour that felt like days.

[Chelsea]: Headed home. Can’t wait to pass out in your arms.

[Chelsea]: Oh, and watch this while you wait.

A final video. At first, the only thing in the frame was Todd on his back on the bed, holding his nine-inch erection. Chelsea’s legs moved into the foreground as she stepped over his prone body, her ass facing the camera. Squatting, she reached between her legs and played with her smooth lips as Todd pointed his dick at her pussy. When she felt his cockhead against her, she moved her fingers from her mound to him, encircling his shaft, holding it steady as she slowly lowered onto him.

“Oh, yes…” she sighed as her pussy stretched around all of that girth. “Oh, oh, ohhhh yesss.”

She savored the sensation, getting used to his size until she was sitting fully on the tops of his legs and that dick was buried to his shaved balls. She was leaning over him, presenting only her ass, a bit of back, a hint of her shoulders. Todd rested his hands on her haunches and flexed his hips up into her as she started to ride him.

The angle and the lighting gave a perfect view of his dick sliding in and out of her. Her moans and gasps were only broken by the wet smacking as they tried to make out during the fucking. Andy couldn’t decide what was hotter—the graphic sex, or those moments when she’d stop bouncing to slow it down and kiss her lover.

At one point, when he slips out of her, she takes him and rubs him against her clit before reinserting, saying, “Remember when we did this back at Rescue? Remember when I felt this dick against me for the first time?”

“I’ll never forget it,” Todd said. “I dreamed about it for months after.”

Chelsea glanced over her shoulder, at the camera. “This is how close we got,” she said, rubbing her smooth and slippery lips along Todd’s shaft. “We were humping like this. We were kissing…” She kissed him. “Like this.”

And then she raised up, rubbed her clit with the crown of his dick, and pressed just the tip inside. “And then he pushed into me.” She gasped. “Just… this… much…”

Todd reached up, grabbed her ass, and pulled her down to him. “And now you won’t say no to anything.”

They went back to fucking, athletic and intense. Todd’s hands were tattooed, Andy noted as the other man grabbed her ass, squeezed, driving her down harder. His hands were all over her, rubbing up her back, driving his nails along her shoulder blades, pressing a finger against her asshole.

She lifted her head, tossing her hair. Andy couldn’t see it, but knew that the man was sucking her tits, maybe even nipping at them. She cried out before pressing her hips against him, grinding there, coming hard.

Todd directed her off his lap. She knelt to the left of him, wrapping a hand around his shaft before taking him into her mouth. Todd pulled her damp hair out of her face so that nothing was missed on the camera—not the way she rubbed her spit and girl-come into his balls, or the way she bathed his dick with her tongue, or how into the blowjob she was.

Todd played with her pussy as she did it, his wrist and fingers rubbing her in time with her plunging head.

“Fuck, babe, that feels so good,” Todd groaned. “Now show your husband how much dick you can swallow.”

Chelsea glanced in the direction of the camera, as if remembering that it was there. Then she swallowed two thirds of his dick without hesitation, paused to get acclimated to the size, then slowly choked on even more.

When she’d taken most of it, she paused a moment, letting him savor the deepthroat, then pulled off and sputtered for oxygen. Then she did it again, and again, and again, each time taking more until she was able to touch her lips to the bare skin of his pelvis.

“You’re a quick learner,” Todd said. 

“Didn’t I prove that “But then again, you proved that with how well you mastered Castaway.”

Chelsea gave him one last, wet suck before straightening up again. This time, when she lifted her leg over his body, she faced away from him and towards the camera. She planted her feet on either side of him and braced her body behind her on her arms, so she was leaning back

There was her bald mound, and there was Todd, holding his dick against her flowering folds. He slipped into her without resistance. Andy loved watching her facial expressions, the way she bit her lip and tightened her brow, the way her mouth hung slack as Todd started to thrust up into her.

She tipped her head back, her throat muscles shifting and flexing as she moaned to the ceiling. Her tits bounced as they fucked, his strange, tattooed fingers holding her by the hips, his splayed legs keeping her own legs spread for him. 

He pulled out of her at one point, his dick pointing straight up as she rubbed her bare pussy along it like a dildo. Neither of them used their hands. All the play was in the hips, in the way Chelsea gyrated her lips like a stripper, buffing his phallus with her smooth, soft folds.

And then he was back inside of her, fucking up into her with loud slapping thrusts—their final stretch. Still keeping one arm back, she reached down and started to play with her clit as she drove harder into him, faster, as her cries grew more desperate. He grabbed her tits, playing with her nipples, squeezing them, pinching them.

“Yeaaasss!” Chelsea cried. He was fucking her like a jack rabbit, thrusting so hard that her cries skipped and modulated like a radio losing signal. “Uhh—yes! Yes! I’m fuckin—I’m cuuu—MING!”

She pressed down on her clit hard as she hit her ceiling. Todd was there, too, sprinting across the finish line. The video caught it all—how his balls lifted, how the muscles in his thighs rippled. How, after thrusting up into her one last time and burying himself deep in her snatch, his milky come oozed out around his shaft, drooling over his hairless balls.

Chelsea leaned forward, but kept his dick lodged inside of her. She smiled at the camera, reached out, and ended the video.

***

“So anal sex?” It was one of the first questions Andy asked the next morning, as they lay in bed together. They still had a couple more hours before checkout, and were determined to use every minute of them.

Chelsea had come home shortly after he’d finished watching her video, but was almost incoherently exhausted. He helped her get ready for bed, then snuggled with her as she fell fast asleep. He wasn’t that far behind her—their sleep wasn’t great the night before and he, too, was emotionally exhausted—yet still, of all the wild things he’d witnessed, that question followed him into his dreams.

“Yeah,” she said, wincing a little as if expecting Andy to get upset. They’d talked about it before, but she never seemed interested.

“And you loved it,” Andy added, like a prosecutor laying out his evidence.

“I… yeah, more than I thought.” She snuggled close to him. “It hurt at first, and there was so much… pressure. But then things kind of tipped into, like, so much pleasure. I can’t quite explain it.”

“Metaphor for our last few months?” Andy said.

She said, “I don’t know that our last few months could be boiled down to a metaphor.”

“What if the metaphor involved another man putting it in your butt?”

Chelsea laughed. “You know, maybe that does work.” She kissed him. “So you’re not upset? We never did that.”

“Not mad,” Andy reassured. “Like all of this, it’s actually really sexy. I love that he’s opening up these new experiences for you. Just don’t forget the little guys on your way to stardom.”

“Not so little,” she said, caressing his cock. “And you know that the only place I’m on my way to is back to you, right?”

“With a detour for some rough sex,” Andy added.

“These journeys through life are always full of detours.”

Andy gave her a kiss. “We never got to talk about the night before last, when we were all together.”

“That was really wild,” Chelsea admitted.

“Too wild?”

“I don’t think so,” she said. “I never thought I’d be okay with you… with other women, but when I watched you… I just kept thinking, That’s my man. It was awesome.”

“Now you know how I feel,” said Andy. “It’s pretty hard to explain.”

Epilogue

In Todd’s final interview, taken from Rescue the morning after he’d been eliminated, Todd had cleaned up. He wore a baby blue linen shirt with too many buttons undone. He’d shaved. 

The video began with him just sitting there, smiling at the camera, rubbing his smooth face like he was still getting used to that sensation. With a final chuckle, he started in. “What can I say? She got me.” He shook his head, his eyes drifting to something off-camera as he quietly repeated, “Yeah, she got me.”

The video cut forward. “I get why she did it. It was strategic, and Chels was always way more strategic than me. I just tried to kick ass in those challenges, do my part around the camp, and not totally piss people off.”

“I think I played a f<bleep>ing great game, though. Sorry, sorry, no swearing. Yeah, I’m proud of the game I played. Don’t think I could’ve done it any different.”

“Yeah, well, I’m still a little pissed off at her, sure, but whatever. It is what it is, you know, and I wish her the best. She could win if those f—I mean, those freakin’ jackals don’t take her out. She’s sure as hell got my vote, and that’s not because I’ve got a crush on her.”

The producer asked him something that couldn’t be understood.

“Yeah, I’m crushing. She’s the f<bleep>ing real deal. Chick like that doesn’t look twice at a guy like me in most situations, you know? She’s a librarian for Chrissakes. But that goes for everyone who played. We’re from all walks. It’s what I love about watching it, and I’m grateful that I got to be a part of it.”

He gave that last smile before ending the video.

“And who knows, maybe we’ll see how things shake out after the show between us. If I can forgive her, I mean.” He winked. By this point, he’d already forgiven her.

Andy watched this video often in the weeks and months after Castaway, as if he needed a reminder that any of this had actually happened. It’s amazing how time can erase even the most intense of emotions.

He always followed up Todd’s exit interview with Chelsea’s final, interviewed words.

“So close. So close!” She was laughing, shaking her head as she looked up into the bright, blue sky. Like Todd, she looked reborn from the ragged woman on the beach. A shower, a good meal, and a full night of sleep in a real bed would do that. They’d put her into a sundress and clipped her dark hair back behind her ears. She sighed.

“What’s one regret? Casting Todd away. That was a really hard decision. I didn’t sleep at all the night before, or after. Probably why I blew that final challenge. You know, if you’d told me on that first day that the hot firefighter with all the tats would be my closest ally, I would have laughed. When he was gone, though, I felt completely… lost…”

She gathered herself. “But you know what? In the end, I needed to play my own game. I told myself that if I made it to the end, I’d stand on my own.”

“I came into this game thinking that I wouldn’t last more than a few days. I didn’t think anyone would take me seriously. They’d see the nerdy, awkward girl. But by the end…” She sighed. “Ah, the end… By the end, they saw me as a big threat and that’s just crazy! Me, a threat in Castaway! Right? This game changes everyone. I’ve learned so much about myself out here. I’ve grown so much, and you know what? I know that I’m still growing. We’re always growing.” She snorted and started laughing. “God, that sounds so corny. Please cut that.”

Chelsea was right, she had changed, yet she was still her amazing self. She was just much more confident with who she was now.

“Castaway has been a gift. Seriously, honestly. It’s been one of the hardest things that I’ve ever done in my life, and I love it for that. But…” She smiled. “At the same time, I cannot wait to be home. Soon, so soon, I’ll be… home.”

“What are you watching?” Chelsea asked, seeing him on his phone. She came over, wrapped her arms around him from behind, and nodded. “That again?”

“I don’t think that I can do this,” he said, switching the phone off.

“You can, and you’ll be amazing.”

He turned in her arms, glancing behind her at the bed, where his bags were packed. “I’m not you. I’m not as strong as you.”

“No, you’re stronger.” She kissed him. “Give my regards to Molly.”

The doorbell rang. His ride was here. They hugged one last time. “And you can give mine to Todd when he gets here…”

“Oh, don’t worry. That’s definitely the plan.”

The end

First of all, let me address the obvious question: no, there's no planned sequel to this story. I don't even know what that sequel would be about, beyond the obvious setup. I just like leaving things open ended that way.

Secondly, this community has been the absolute best, and publishing this series this way has been an amazing experience. I've definitely tweaked a few things along the way, when possible, to reflect the feedback. Most of this was already written, so while I could only change so much, I will definitely take a lot of the feedback you've left into future books.

My plan was to package up the story, go through it one more time with everyone's comments, and publish it as a book on all the major marketplaces sometime in June. This is still largely the plan, although the timeframe may shift. Your feedback has been so thought-provoking that I may take a harder look at the book and revise more than I'd thought. If I do, I'll split it into two parts: before LA and during LA. I'm not going to change the general structure, Chelsea's not going to leave Andy for Todd, but you all have given me plenty of ways to infuse it with a bit more angst. 

When the book does come out, there's no pressure to buy since you're supporting me here. If you do pick it up, and are up for it, please leave a review there when it's out. It'll help the wider world discover the book.

Thanks again. Next up, In Too Deep, publishing in June.